Never in a million years would have I,
Imagined a love so sweet to appear,
At my doorsteps with an aroma,
So addictive that I long for her presence,
At night when the birds flee the sky,
Leaving behind a darkness so clear.
The love I describe is a persona,
With wide brown eyes and a mesmerizing
essence,
And it is this entity that supplies me
with air,
With a smile, and with a flame for my
cigarettes.
I have become an addict, clinging onto
despair,
But get cured every night by the sheets
on my bed.
I would gladly die from solely her
silhouette,
But alive she needs me, not dead.
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